Chase Away the Flames
by firecracker189
Summary: Shortly after Jessica's death, both Sam and Dean are confronted with memories of the flames. Hurt!Sam and Dean Caring!Protective! Dean Brotherly fluff


AUTHOR NOTE: The Italics is Dean's dream, Bold Italics is Sam's dream, Bold normal is both of them. Enjoy reading! Please review!

The moon shone high in the sky, casting its silvery glow upon the two weary in habitants of the old Chevy. Exhausted past the point of words, the two silently agreed on stopping at the next motel.

Flipping on the blinker, Dean expertly maneuvered past a pot hole that was larger than Dallas, gliding to a stop beneath the awning. Sighting his brother's drooping eyes and stifled yawn, Dean levered himself out of the car, stiffness and bruises protesting angrily. Pulling open the door, he strode across the small lobby, plastering on a winsome smile for the elderly lady tending the counter.

"Can I help you son?" She smiled, all grandmotherly affection.

"Yes ma'am." Dean smiled back. "I need a room for me and my brother please." He gestured towards the car, where Sam's limp form was just visible, slumped against the window, snoring.

Face softening, the older woman quickly pulled out a key, running the card he slipped across the counter. "Here you go dear, room 11. You all have a nice stay, and be sure to holler if you need anything."

"Yes ma'am, we'll be sure to do that." Dean threw her one last smile, turning to leave.

"Oh, and son?"

Dean turned.

"You be sure and get that brother of yours out of that car before he gets a crick in his neck."

Chuckling, he pushed open the door, sliding into his baby.

Pulling the door shut quietly, so as not to wake Sammy, he cruised along the parking lot, stopping before room 11. Cutting the engine, Dean quickly moved to transfer their things to the room, grateful Sam was getting some sleep. Just how long that would last though, he couldn't say. The nightmares usually started anywhere from a few minutes to an hour after he fell asleep, and then he would throw himself into research, or shut himself off and simply stare at the wall, ignoring Dean.

Placing the duffels at the foot of his bed, Dean moved to fetch his brother.

Crouching beside his little brother, Dean lay a hand on his shoulder, shaking lightly.

"Sammy? C'mon bro, let's get you inside."

Sam's forehead crinkled, face turning towards his brother. "Mnnnnhhh… go 'way." He mumbled, not even cracking open his tired eyes.

Chuckling, Dean lifted his brother from the Impala, pushing the door shut with his rear. Using his free hand, he unlocked the door. Supporting Sam with his upper body, Dean slipped off Sam's jacket. The little brother's head lolled on his shoulders, clearly fighting sleep.

Pulling back the covers, Dean pushed him down into a sitting position, bending to unlace his muddy boots. He made sure to remove the stinky socks as well, knowing his Sasquatch of a baby brother could never keep them on as he slept. Placing Sam's legs on the bed, Dean carefully slid the covers over him, praying fervently the absent stare would turn to sleep soon.

Taking Sam's lack of protest as a good sign, Dean quickly removed his own boots and jacket, flipping off the light and crawling into bed. He'd try to grab a couple winks before the kid woke up.

"_Goodnight Baby."_

"_Night Dean-O. Sweet dreams little man." _

_His father's large hand reached down and ruffled his hair affectionately, his mother pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. _

"_Angels are watching over you." She whispered, turning out the lights. The door shut with a soft whish! and the little boy was left alone, drifting off to sleep, comforted by his parents' presence. _

_Dean was awoken mere hours later to strange noises coming from baby Sammy's nursery._

"_Mommy?" He makes his way into Sammy's nursery, searching._

_**Sam slammed the door of the Impala carefully, duffel strap slung securely across his shoulder. He sighed, glad to be home. He had enjoyed spending time with Dean, catching up, just getting to be the little brother again—bitching over Dean's cassette collection, arguing back and forth about who would do better in a fight: Lindsay Lohan or Hillary Duff—doing normal brother stuff. **_

_**He watches Dean drive away, feeling as empty as he had that first day at Stanford. He mounts the stairs to his and Jess's apartment, eager to get inside and get some sleep.**_

_**He flops down onto the bed, smiling as the last remnants of one of Jess's famous chocolate chip cookies melt away in his mouth. A sudden noise rouses him from his half slumber.**_

"_**Jess?"**_

**The stench of burning flesh is unbearable, heat from the flames engulfing his body, searing his face, hands, arms. He looks up, and she is pinned to the ceiling, bleeding from a large gash in her belly—blank eyes staring. **

"**NOOOO!"**

Dean jerked awake, chest heaving, cold sweat covering his body. His body was shaking like a leaf, memories of that night flooding his system. The smell filled his nostrils, his father's commands to protect Sammy ringing in his four-year-old ears.

"D-Dean?" Sam's voice was small, coming from somewhere near the foot of the bed.

"Yeah Sammy?" Dean quickly scrubbed the moisture from his cheeks.

"Can I sleep with you? I—" His voice faltered.

"You have another bad dream?"

Sam sniffled in reply.

"C'mere." Dean pulled the covers aside, scooting over to make room.

Sammy crawled up beside him, fisting his gigantic hands into Dean's shirt, pressing his face into his chest. Dean pulled the covers over them both, wrapping his arms around his little brother, one hand moving to card through Sam's hair.

The effect was instantaneous; both brothers seeming to relax into each other's presence—Sam in the protection of his big brother, Dean in the comforting weight of Sam's head on his chest.

"S'all right Sammy. Big brother won't let anything get'cha."

"'Night 'De." Sam whispered, breathing evening out.

"'Night Sammy." Dean breathed, thoughts of burning lost in the wake of an adoring little brother.

And when they woke up in the morning, not a word was said. Because you do what you have to do to survive.

Because Rule Number One means take care of Sammy.

And he would. No matter what he had to sacrifice.


End file.
